


Vindicate

by JadedLynx



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedLynx/pseuds/JadedLynx
Summary: Sing didn’t know whether to feel annoyed or relieved at Yue’s apparent disinterest in the fact that he was wearing nothing but a towel. He convinced himself that the latter was more practical.
Relationships: Lee Yut-Lung & Sing Soo-Ling, Lee Yut-Lung/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	Vindicate

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: All characters are adults in this fic. 
> 
> Thank to my beta and amazing friend Sock (src) for sticking with me and listening to me screaming about this fic for over a month. I love and appreciate you so much :') <3
> 
> Please check out [this absolutely beautiful artwork](https://twitter.com/koro56_011/status/1305585622518837248) @koro56_011 made for this fic!

Shorter’s birthday was never a just one-day celebration. While the rest of the population could be content with a homemade birthday cake and some movie tickets, Sing’s roommate insisted that he and his friends “drop everything for a week to celebrate the most exciting birth since Jesus Christ himself". While Sing couldn’t deny he’d thoroughly enjoyed the past six days of heavy drinking, socialising and takeaway food, no amount of alcohol could distract their friends from the fact that the apartment was beginning to look like a ‘before’ image from an episode of _Hoarders_.

“So, the guys are coming over at 10pm right?” Sing asked, sighing as he checked the time on his phone. It was 6:05pm, which still left a decent amount of time to deal with the worst of the mess. He eyed the potted plant on their windowsill, its leaves shrivelled into sharp brown spikes. Plants seemed to share the same distaste for beer dregs as humans did, apparently.  
“Yup, 10pm.” Shorter’s phone pinged, and he paused to read the message. “But I’m gonna have to ask you for a favour.” His roommate’s sheepish grin told Sing all he needed to know.

\----------

“I’ll be back in a few hours, promise,” Shorter called out as he dashed round the apartment, checking under empty pizza boxes and stacks of paper. “Sing have you seen my wallet? I thought that I-” He cursed as his sunglasses clattered to the floor.

“Are you seriously gonna leave me here to clean up all of this while you go out and bang some girl?”

“It’s not just one girl Sing, it’s actually two,” Shorter flashed Sing a winning smile, “And I’ll be back before 9:30pm. You have my word.”

Sing sighed, wincing at the memory of the noises coming from Shorter’s bedroom last time he’d scored at the bar. At least he’d be spared the vocals this time. That was something, wasn’t it? "You owe me big time."

He winked, before yelling a goodbye and thumping out the door, leaving Sing alone in the apartment.

The place was what Shorter would refer to as "an absolute shit storm". The sink had been rendered unusable, stacked high with delicately balanced pots and pans from Shorter’s 1am experimental cooking escapades. Every flat surface was cluttered with greasy take-away containers, half-empty cans of beer and crumbs from which Sing assumed must have once been a packet of Doritos. Sing groaned, wading his way through the rubbish to search for a trash bag in one of the kitchen drawers.

\----------

A few hours and overfilled trash bags later, Sing collapsed on the couch. While the apartment wasn’t going to grace the cover of _Home Beautiful_ any time soon, the floor was no longer an obstacle course of garbage and cigarette butts, and the kitchen was somewhat functional again.

Although Sing wanted nothing more than to succumb to his exhaustion and pass out in the living room, he smelt terrible and his hands itched with the residue of cleaning products. He knew he’d have to make himself presentable if they were having company later. He sighed, reluctant, and left the comfort of their beat up old couch to drag himself to the bathroom.

After scrubbing himself mercilessly with body wash, eager to remove any residual grime from his cleaning efforts, Sing wrapped a towel around his waist and headed towards his bedroom. Shorter would have to be happy with how much he’d cleaned at such short notice; and Sing had to admit, it was nice to be able to walk around without the risk of a bottle cap piercing the sole of his foot. All he had left to do was to take the bags of garbage down to the skip bin, and that should only take a few min-

He stopped dead. “What are you doing here?”

Yut-Lung was perched daintily on the worn leather comforter, eyes downcast as he scrolled through his social media accounts on his smartphone.

“Hello to you too, Sing,” he replied, not looking up from his phone. “Did you not invite me over?”

Sing didn’t know whether to feel annoyed or relieved at Yue’s apparent disinterest in the fact that he was wearing nothing but a towel. He convinced himself that the latter was more practical.

“Yeah but-” Sing stuttered, “you declined every invitation and now you’re here two hours early. How’d you even get in?”

“I’m not giving away all of my secrets.” The ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of Yut-Lung’s mouth chipped away at Sing’s ability to form coherent thoughts.

_That red eyeshadow really accentuates the violet in his eyes._

“No really, Yue,” Sing swallowed, feeling as though his throat had been stuffed with cotton. “Shorter has this place locked up like a maximum security prison. How the hell did you open the door?”

“You left your spare key at my house.”

“Oh.”

Sing knew it was a lie, but he felt no anger towards the older boy sitting before him. If it wasn’t for the heat that had begun to smoulder behind his groin, he probably could have come up with something smart to say that would have wiped that conceited smirk right off Yut-Lung’s perfect face. Neither of them spoke, but Sing could feel Yut-Lung’s eyes on him as his heart threatened to tear through his chest.

Did this really have to happen now of all times? Sing was worried. No, worried seemed too quaint a word to describe the visceral anxiety that gripped at his stomach.

He loved Yut-Lung. It had taken him years of wrestling with the concept to even admit it to himself. Shorter had teased him about it, but quickly realised that, even without a verbal confession, Sing’s lack of eye contact and half-hearted retaliation was all the evidence he needed.

“Shorter isn’t here,” Yut-Lung observed, dark eyes assessing the empty apartment. While his tone was light and conversational, Sing could tell by the way his companion fidgeted with a lock of his hair that there was more to what Yut-Lung was saying.

Something unspoken hung heavy in the air, before more damning words tumbled from Sing’s mouth. “He’s gone out drinking for a while.”

“Oh?”

Heat, almost startling in its intensity, ignited at the base of Sing’s spine. He became uncomfortably aware of the flimsy curtain of fabric wrapped around his waist.

Yut-Lung seemed to read his mind. “Don’t you think you should get rid of that towel?”

_Remain fucking calm._

“I was about to, but you broke into my house.”

The almost undetectable flicker of hunger in Yut-Lung’s eyes betrayed his laughter. Anyone who didn’t know him better wouldn’t have even noticed that it was there at all.

Sing could feel his composure growing increasingly fragile with every fleeting glance he allowed himself at Yut-Lung.

_I bet his hair would feel like silk. Imagine running your fingers through it while he moans your nam-_

“Um, it’s hot, let me get you something to drink,” Sing offered, desperate for an out so that he could collect himself. Eager to leave the room to rid himself of the alluring ideas that threatened to derail his self-control, he turned his back to the other boy to make his way into the kitchen. While getting dressed immediately would have made more sense, any excuse to tear his eyes from Yut-Lung was viable.

The sensation of slender, purposeful arms wrapping firmly around his waist sent a jolt of electricity straight to Sing’s inner thighs. He hadn’t even heard the older boy move from his seat, and now Yut-Lung’s fingertips were rubbing tantalising circles around his navel, threatening to dip beneath the hem of the towel. It was the most perfect nightmare he could ever have imagined.

“Oh _Sing_!” Yut-Lung’s breath was hot on the back of his neck. “You always have been _such_ the gentleman, but I think we know each other well enough to bypass those initial stages of courtship, don’t you? A drink first is hardly necessary.”

Sing tried to swallow, but his mouth prickled with dryness.

“Yue-” he stuttered, forcing his mind to find the right words instead of focusing on the other boy’s touch. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t owe me anything.”

Yut-Lung’s fingers stilled. “Of course I don’t,” he snapped, manicured nails pressing crescents into Sing’s abdomen. “And even if I did, do you honestly think I’d go about it in this way? Don’t pretend like you don’t want this as much as I do, Sing. I’ve seen how you look at me.”

Although Yut-Lung’s words dripped with venom, the shallow, frequent breaths he drew against Sing’s bare skin exposed an authenticity that the younger boy was secretly grateful to bear witness to. His accusation had stung somewhat, yet the warmth of his cheek against Sing’s back was reassuring. Hand clutching firmly at his towel, Sing twisted around to face Yut-Lung.

“Pretend like I don’t _want_ this?” Sing’s laughter was hollow, but the dull echo of it seemed to bounce off of each flimsy wall. Did Yut-Lung really not know how much Sing cared for him? How difficult it was for him to brush off Yut-Lung’s advances and make out like they were merely jokes, rather than legitimate propositions?

_Does he seriously have no idea?_

“To be honest with you Yue…” Sing swallowed, willing himself to say the right thing. “I rarely think about anything else.”

Yut-Lung’s eyes narrowed as his pale cheeks flushed scarlet. “Then why,” he started, choosing his words carefully, as though he was picking through pieces of broken glass, hesitant to choose fragments that were too sharp, “then _why_ have you always rejected me? It’s infuriating, Sing.” Yut-Lung’s voice was quiet, barely above a murmur, but the words themselves screamed out. “You are the only person I have ever truly felt for.”

A shaky breath escaped Sing’s lips. He’d barely even heard himself exhale against the roar of blood in his ears.

_I have really fucked this up._

The knowledge that he'd hurt Yut-Lung through his stubborn attempts to preserve their friendship, at the expense of allowing the relationship to evolve, caused waves of guilt to tear at his stomach. He knew what Yut-Lung had been through and how traumatising his past had been - faceless monsters clawing at his naked flesh, eager to seize whatever they could from him with utter disregard for his humanity. Although Yut-Lung had assured Sing that he didn’t need anyone’s sympathy, Sing knew that under that elegant facade, the wounds of his past still festered.

But Sing had no idea how to begin to articulate all of that without either upsetting or offending Yut-Lung. He gulped back the deluge of half-formed apologies that cloyed at the back of his throat, deciding that the risk of selecting the wrong words was too great of a threat. Sing wanted to show Yut-Lung how he truly felt more than he had ever wanted anything, but the lingering tension, heavy and dense as lead, paralyzed him.

To Sing’s surprise, his silence had appeared to soften Yut-Lung’s expression into one of gentle curiosity. His violet-black eyes were uncharacteristically honest, brimming with an emotion that Sing wasn't sure had an exact name in any language. He felt his breath catch as Yut-Lung stepped closer towards him, the action a question more than anything as he placed a curious hand on Sing’s chest.

Desire overrode everything.

He didn’t intend for his kiss to be so forceful. However, as soon as Sing brushed Yut-Lung’s lips with his own, technique succumbed to instinct as he laid claim to every inch of the other boy’s mouth. The delicate flavours of jasmine and champagne intoxicated Sing, exotic yet familiar, as his body flared with years of repressed desire.

Under any other circumstances, Sing would have felt mortified by the fervour and sheer desperation of his actions, but Yut-Lung was eager to return the favour. He whined as Sing cradled the nape of his neck, grazing his teeth along the bottom of Yut-Lung’s lip.

Sing hadn't even realised that he’d been guided back to the living room until he was startled by the smack of his still-damp skin against leather. Yut-Lung pushed him onto the lounge, legs taut and unapologetic as they wrapped around Sing’s bare waist. His towel remained comically in-tact, a chaste reminder of his shattered-self control as Yut-Lung began to grind against his erection. Sing groaned loudly, head tipping backward as his hips bucked towards Yut-Lung, desperate for more than just friction.

“I’ve wanted you for such a long time Sing.” Yut-Lung’s knuckles were white against Sing’s shoulders as he met the hardness under his towel with each roll of his hips. “You have no idea how much I-”

“Please let me touch you Yue.”

Yut-Lung wasted no time, eyes ablaze with lust as he began to unbutton his blouse.

“Let me,” Sing murmured as he brushed the other boy’s fingers aside and fumbled with the tiny pearlescent buttons. He noticed how Yut-Lung’s eyes widened briefly, before a soft smile spread across his face. His heart clenched at the realisation that no one had probably ever offered to undress Yut-Lung before, let alone ask for permission.

Yut-Lung snickered at the crease deepening between Sing’s eyebrows, impatience hindering his dexterity as he hastily worked on each button, before finally pushing the silken fabric off the other boy’s shoulders. Yut-Lung’s body was hot and prickled with goosebumps as Sing pulled his pants past his hips in one fluid motion, Yut-Lung standing and kicking them the rest of the way off with his ankles before reseating himself.

A shared glance, equal in its intensity, quashed any obligatory attempts at playing coy. Sing drew Yut-Lung flush against himself, burying his face in the junction in between the other boy’s neck and shoulder. He lapped greedily at Yut-Lung’s pale skin, savouring the smoothness and the way that his companion gasped and pushed his arousal against Sing’s body at the lightest graze of his teeth. Sing’s ability to form coherent thoughts had all but disappeared. White-hot lust gripped at his throat, incinerating the hundreds of unspoken confessions he’d so desperately wanted to share with Yut-Lung.

_But why use words when you can show him?_

“ _Sing_ —” Yut-Lung’s voice was hoarse and needy, startlingly similar to the noises that frequented Sing’s daydreams more than he cared to admit. He paid no attention to the towel falling to his ankles as he picked Yut-Lung up, flipped him over and seated him on the couch. He kneeled, pushing the other boy’s legs open, eyebrows raised in question.

“Please,” Yut-Lung breathed, quivering in anticipation as Sing wrapped his hand around his companion’s already hard cock and began to stroke. Yut-Lung was hot and leaking, swearing softly in Cantonese as his delicate hands clawed at the edge of the lounge. Sing couldn’t help but take in the sight of the other boy unravelling before him, but was repeatedly drawn back to Yut-Lung’s eyes, half-lidded yet alight with candour.

“A-are you just going to sit there and stare at me like some besotted moron, or are you actually going to make my visit here worthwhile?” Yut-Lung huffed, his curt tone overshadowed by the telling redness in his cheeks.

_Ah. There’s the conceited jerk I know._

“I believe I was in the middle of doing so, before you so rudely interrupted me,” Sing shot back, smiling sweetly as he ran his thumb over Yut-Lung’s slit and leant in. Sing’s name was uttered as a moan, lewd and begging, as he took Yut-Lung into his mouth. The salty bitterness of precum caused Sing’s blood to boil beneath his skin as he grew increasingly aware of his own arousal, aching and neglected between his legs. Tensed fingers tugged at Sing’s hair, coaxing him to swallow further.

He was more than happy to oblige. Sing hollowed his cheeks and increased his pace, savouring the way Yut-Lung’s back arched with pleasure at the slightest flick of his tongue. His heart thrashed against his ribs at the mere thought of going further.

“Don’t...s-stop…” Yut-Lung whined through clenched teeth, head tilting back, as his panting became increasingly rapid and shallow. Sing could feel the other’s body tense as he hollowed his cheeks, relaxing his throat to accommodate Yut-Lung even further. Half-formed pleas for Sing to keep going signalled that he was at the absolute edge of his self control.

“Please Sing I’m— _ahhh_!” Yut-Lung’s breath hitched violently as he came, thrusting into Sing’s mouth as he filled it with his lust.

Sing swallowed without hesitation, wiping the corner of his mouth on his shoulder as he stood and placed a shaky hand on Yut-Lung’s cheek. His skin glowed with warmth, as though lit from within with embers.

“Get my pants.”

“What?” Sing blinked. Had his performance been so leave-straight-after abysmal, surely Yut-Lung would have berated him long before now. Sing’s head spun with numb uncertainty. Had he crossed an invisible line he shouldn’t have?

Yut-Lung’s impatience became apparent as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “Hurry up Sing,” he sighed, wincing at Sing’s utterly lost expression. “And why do you look like I’ve just told you that I’ve poisoned your dog? Just check inside my right pocket _and be quick about it_.”

Sing sighed as he picked up the forgotten, crumpled pile of Yut-Lung’s clothing. Yut-Lung watched him intently, his face a mask of practiced impassivity as Sing plunged his hand into the pocket. He frowned as his fingers found a small, plastic rectangle.

“Yue did you seriously-”

“Come prepared? Of course I did. Now sit down and give that to me.”

Sing knew better than to argue. He wanted this too much to question why Yut-Lung had fucking _lube_ in his pocket, although he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t already know the answer.

Yut-Lung rose, brushing a few loose strands of hair behind his ear before taking the sachet out of Sing’s hand.

Sing sat back down on the couch obediently, eyes trained on Yut-Lung’s hands as they tore the plastic open. “Here, pass it to me, I’ll do it,” Sing offered, acutely aware of how he seemed to be getting harder with each passing second.

“No.”

Sing opened his mouth to protest, but his words were stolen by the guttural moan that escaped from his throat as he felt the sudden and cool wetness of Yut-Lung’s hand caressing his cock. Dark eyes locked with his, and Sing had to remind himself how to breathe as far too many memories of the guilty nights he’d spent alone flashed within his mind. Yut-Lung seemed to know exactly how to maneuver his wrist and adjust the pressure of his grip, coating him from base to tip in lubricant.

“Hand me the rest,” Sing groaned, hands fisting the seat cushion as he jutted his chin towards the torn packet of lube sitting just out of reach.

“I’ve used enough.” Yut-Lung replied, not pausing for even a second as he positioned himself on top of Sing.

“No, Yue, I mean for _you_.”

“Fine.”

The lasciviousness of Yut-Lung’s gaze was palpable as he passed Sing the packet and watched him apply the liquid to his fingers. As Yut-Lung’s legs constricted around Sing once again, Sing pressed a curious finger against the other boy’s entrance. He stroked the ring of muscle between them with a tenderness that he knew would drive Yut-Lung to breathless frustration. It was the least he could do to gain some kind of revenge for having his apartment broken into.

“Does that feel good?”

Yut-Lung nodded furiously, his jaw clenched with tension as he pushed back against Sing’s finger, right there but ever-so-slightly out of reach. He saw Yut-Lung’s mouth open, ready to protest against Sing’s teasing, but Sing was faster. He’d expected more tightness and resistance, but Yut-Lung’s body was eager to receive whatever Sing had to give.

“Oh wow. That was easy,” Sing exclaimed, inserting a digit, before swiftly adding a second. He curled and stretched his fingers, taking deep satisfaction in the way Yut-Lung yelped and tugged at Sing’s hair as he prodded that elusive bundle of nerves. “I can’t believe you can take so many fingers so quickly,” he marvelled, adding a third.

“What...do you think...I was doing...while you were in...the shower?” Yut-Lung panted, shifting against Sing’s torso to force his fingers even further inside.

Sing didn’t know whether to be mildly horrified or thoroughly impressed at Yut-Lung’s ability to plan ahead, especially in a situation like this, but he was too consumed by his own lust to think about anything other than withdrawing his fingers and immediately replacing them with his arousal. He shifted to align himself with Yut-Lung’s entrance, pressing into him without restraint.

“Yue do y’need a second to-”

“Do I look like I want to wait?”

The culmination of years of indulgent fantasies and run-away dreams did not come even remotely close to experiencing Yut-Lung in the flesh. He was _everywhere_ ; swollen, urgent lips colliding against Sing’s own, lush heat swallowing his cock and oh god when he rocks his hips like that-

“Yue,” Sing gulped as he grasped Yut-Lung’s waist, his heartbeat a frantic rhythm within his chest as Yut-Lung drove him deeper with every undulation. “Yue you’re so beautiful like this, I just-”

“Feel utterly stupid for not doing this sooner?” Yut-Lung’s tone was gentle, far too overcome with his own pleasure to give way to any residual bitterness.

“You’re right, but this is the only time I’ll give you the satisfaction of admitting it.”

Time felt non-existent, Sing’s surroundings reduced to nothing more than an intangible blur of colours as Yut-Lung bounced wildly against him, the neat braid in his hair unravelling into loose waves around his shoulders.

Sing’s blood ran molten in his veins as he jerked upwards; he could taste the pleasure in Yut-Lung’s resultant moan as he slammed against his prostate. The vibration of Yut-Lung’s muffled cries against Sing’s neck caused any remnants of his composure to wither even further as he felt Yut-Lung sucking a mark into his neck.

“If you keep making noises like that I’m not gonna last,” Sing warned, his words brittle as glass as the telltale tingling sensation behind his navel began to intensify.

“Keep there...just like that... _please_ Sing.”

Sing clung to the final thread of his self-restraint, the tendrils of pleasure rapidly pulling him closer to his inevitable release. Yut-Lung buried his nose in Sing’s collarbone, whimpering in ecstasy as Sing continued to chase after his sweet spot.

“I’m so close Yue...fuck I can’t-”

“ _Sing_!”

It was too much. Sing came with a shattered groan, his vision dyed white as Yut-Lung slumped against him, cheek resting on his shoulder. The scent of jasmine, subtle yet sweet, lingered.

Sing’s thoughts swirled within his head, almost dreamlike in their warmth, as the raggedness of his breathing began to dissipate. He pressed a kiss against Yut-Lung’s forehead, warmth blooming within his chest from the way Yut-Lung melted against him.

“I’ve never seen you like this before Yue. Can’t believe you haven’t insulted me yet.”

“Your fragile ego couldn’t handle it.”

“How very thoughtful of you.”

Yut-Lung rose, the sheen of sweat on his skin accentuating the blotchy reddened marks Sing had left in his fervour. “I’m going to shower,” he announced, pausing just long enough to entice Sing with ambiguity. “And I’ll even consider forgiving you for wrinkling up my clothes if you wash my hair.”

“Yue are you sure?”

“I never ask unless I am,” Yut-Lung replied simply, his smile kind. He seemed to have sensed Sing’s apprehension to overstep any potential boundaries. “Are you coming or not?”

Sing’s muscles trembled slightly as he stood and exhaled, taking a second to quell the spark of heat that flickered in his stomach.

“Lead the way.”

\----------

A crash at the door and chorus of expletives announced Shorter’s return an hour later as he stumbled into the apartment, Ash and Eiji in tow. Thankfully, the trio’s loud bickering outside the front door had given Sing and Yue just enough time to untangle themselves before the door burst open.

“Are you actually capable of using a set of keys like a normal human?” Sing could practically feel the waves of irritation rolling off Ash as Shorter slurred an insult back at him, something about pulling that stick out of his ass and helping him and Eiji put the beer in the fridge.

Shorter’s cheerful demeanour returned as he noticed the significantly tidier space around him. “Apartment looks good,” he announced, throwing his keys into the bowl on the kitchen benchtop. “Might even bring the girls back here next time!”

Normally, Sing would have groaned, but he was too preoccupied with the few seconds that separated his privacy from Shorter’s impending interrogation. He planned to tell him eventually, but to tell all less than sixty minutes after the fact felt a bit too invasive.

While he was louder and more clumsy than usual, inebriation only seemed to heighten Shorter’s ability to sense when Sing was hiding something from him. Shorter kneeled next to Sing, chin resting in his hands on the armrest. “Yue’s here.”

_Here we go._

“Yeah,” Sing refused to meet the knowing smirk that spread across Shorter’s face. “He helped me clean up.”

“Before or after?”

Fuck Shorter could be annoying.

“After.” Yut-Lung didn’t even bother looking up from his phone to enjoy Shorter’s expression. Sing felt his soul leave his body. Maybe it was just better to get it over with.

“Wait,” Shorter shot up, his eyes darting to Yut-Lung, then to Sing, and then back to Yut-Lung as he pieced together the events that occurred in his absence. “You’re not shittin’ me are you? Fuck, good going Sing. I’ll go out more often!”

Sing sighed as Shorter slapped him on the back and returned to help Ash and Eiji in the kitchen, his grin almost as broad as his shoulders.

“How can he always tell?”

“Well, it could be because you’re close,” Yut-Lung started, moving to lean in closer to Sing. His presence was comforting, and Sing appreciated the gesture. “But I’d say it’s because of that mark I left on your neck.”

Sing’s blood ran hot as he felt Yut-Lung’s lips against his ear, trailing down to brush against the wine-coloured patch of skin on his neck.

“Yue?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are very much appreciated <3


End file.
